


Acta es fabula

by Halliah



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, dialogs, lot of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 16:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3388313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halliah/pseuds/Halliah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raoul Silva had time. Time to watch, talk or fuck. The thing he didn't have was patience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acta es fabula

**Author's Note:**

> So before anyone starts reading this, it's my first English fick, so any mistakes are made because of my teachers~ Seriously, I'm deeply sorry for them, I'm still learning so please don't flame me.

Being left behind was terrifying. Next to Her betrayal, it was most as painful. Sending one message wouldn't kill her for God’s sake. He could get out of the country or buy one of the Chinese agents. No, she had just sold him out. Like he was one of the recruits, easy to replace. Raoul took sip of his scotch, smiling to himself as he browsed Mummy’s records. So many had died for Her. At least they’d still believed in queen, country, duty. Even if they’d died after long torture, they still thought someone was coming for them. Waking up just to found out that they’d been betrayed by everyone they loved was much, much worse. Death of 009 saved six other agents. But one bloody text would make this operation a starling success. No victims. (Maybe a war, but who cares, right?) He skipped part about Hong Kong and got to more modern entries. Oh, dear James was mentioned here and there. The most loyal dog, or like Raoul liked to call them, rat. After 006 demise and 009 resurrection it made sense. It was almost poetic that new favourite had been almost killed by Her decision. Stupid, little decision. Shoot even if the possibility of survival was so small. Everyone was replaceable. But, unfortunately for MI6, good old Tiago wasn't the only one who had problem with dying. It seemed almost pitiful, retreatment wasn't meant for them. They were too smart, too reckless. They either died in action or still worked for government. Trained killers couldn't walk unattended. Bond would never work in office, behind desk. So, like a mad dog, he had to be put down. Honorable death, died for country. But he came back. Well, he was still living in little hut with some random girl, but coming back from death time after time was quite an achievement. Even if he came back with addictions, scars and lot of broken hearts. Raoul finished his drink, switched off laptop and got up. He had to finally visit famous 007.

Finding James wasn't too hard. Raoul had agents nearly everywhere, even in the God forgotten parts of Earth. Soon observing 007 become his hobby. He was sitting in the corner, siping drinks and admiring other man. It’s rather embarrassing to admit that it took him three days to notice his pray was looking at him too. He waited and next day James came to have a little chat.  
“I don’t think this drink lives up to your taste.” He said instead of simple ‘Hello’.  
Raoul grinned.  
“I admit I had better. What about you Mr. Bond? Is it the best you can do?”  
“Maybe not, but at least it hadn't taken me several days to find out that target knew about being followed.”  
“Touché”  
James got another shot of whisky.  
“So what can I do for you?”  
Straight to the point it seemed.  
“Buy me something better than this and we will talk.” Raoul finished his drink.  
Bond scoffed but did as he was told. They went out of the bar and sat on the dry sand. Neither made a sound, just listened to the waves. James knew that something was wrong with this man. He was still like a statue, blond hair too bright next to the brown skin. He was a predator, just like him, but at the same time reckless, not caring if the prey knows there’s someone there. Chase was always fun, but it wasn’t supposed to be main attraction. Not for an agent. It seemed different for the Spaniard.  
“You can call me Silva” stranger finally said.  
He sat next to James till he finished his drink, than got up and left without any world. Later Bond found out that he left a big tip for a waiter.  
Next day they met again. James had send away a girl who was living with him. Sleeping sound more accurate, most of his time he was drinking after all. Besides there was a possibility that Mr. Silva would like to use her against him. After all he still didn’t know what this strange man wanted from him.  
“How long have you been sitting here?”  
“Just fifteen minutes, more or less. It seems like I've got your attention.”  
“Or I know that you would find me again. And what exactly is that you want to accomplish?”  
“Telling you would probably destroy my chance of achieving it.”  
“I won’t tell you anything.”  
“Maybe I don’t want you to.”  
James wasn't very convinced.  
“Who are you working for?”  
“And that, my dear, would be spoiling fun. Give me some of your guesses.”  
“Not America. Spain?”  
“Almost. My daddy was a Spaniard. I've spend a lot of time on his mother’s island.”  
“But you’re not from GEO.”  
“I was a boy when we moved out.”  
“You are an orphan.”  
“And how would you know that?”  
“You talk about your grandmother with more warm than your father. You seem not caring.”  
“Maybe he was beating me.”  
“Then there would be hate or anger. Not detachment.”  
“Pretty and smart.” Silva smirked.  
“You worked for MI6.”  
“Orphans make best agents.”  
“So you want revenge. I won’t help you.”  
“I don’t want it. Not right now at least.”  
“So why are you here?”  
“To admire nice views, people, talk to fellow dead agents.”  
James sighed. He wouldn't find any straight answers. Once again they sat in silence. Silva got local paper from somewhere and started reading it. Agent hated to admit but his lunge skills were rather rusted. As he was ignored, he got back to watching waves. 

“What do you think about second chances?”  
James looked at him strangely.  
“For traitors.” Raoul added.  
“If someone betrays you once, do you have any proof they won’t do it again?”  
“Fool me once shame on me, fool me twice shame on me?” Silva grinned.  
“In other word.”  
“Don’t you believe in change of heart?”  
“No if it gets me a knife in the back.”  
“You are a pessimist, my dear.”  
Bond just sighted.  
“Have you ever heard about Existentialism?”  
Agent rose an eyebrow.  
“It’s a very pessimistic philosophy. According to it our world is an absurd, unfair and amoral. I find it rather truthful.”  
“You must have a lot of free time.” James concluded.  
“Lot of restless nights.” 

"Do you know how many times you have almost died?"  
It seemed Silva was in his more talkative moods.  
"Never tried to count."  
"I had it noted somewhere. Never mind. The thing I want to say, is that you have risked your life so many times. But for what? Your country? It still exist without you. Other agents? They live and die no matter what you do?"  
"And what my answer will change?"  
"My live?"  
James rolled his eyes.  
"I've done what was right."  
"And now?"  
"I'm dead."  
"I can't agree."  
Raoul got closer and moved fast to agent's neck. He touched it with his lips.  
"I can feel you heart beat rather well." He noticed.  
James snarled as he jumped away. His companion just laughed.

From time to time James liked to remind himself who he was. He trained every day, but drinking something other than alcohol wasn't normal. So when he bought tee Silva grinned and asked for a cup himself. Waiter was surprised but had already learned not to ask questions. Thanks to it he got a rather large amount of money from the Spaniard. Of course Raoul couldn't stand such a peaceful atmosphere, he started talking.  
"Have you heard about British empiricism?"  
"Are we in a bloody school?"  
James didn't know if anyone could make a better bitchface.  
"It's a rather beautiful concept." Raoul continued as if nothing'd happened. "You learn everything from experience, there is no nativism. Nothing is inside your brain since you've been born."  
"You learn about love and other stuff, bu at the same time you find out about despair on your own."  
"Exactly. Isn't it perfect?"

"Since I've told you about my two favorite parts of philosophy I think I should talk to you about my conclusion."  
"I think you are going to do it no matter what I say."  
Raoul smiled like a little kid who just got a lollipop.  
"You know me so well. So, as I've told you life isn't fair and we have to learn about it. But if there's no meaning of life, if there is only death what those who come back, what should they do after it? Seek redemption for cheating universe? I think it means that their life finally got a meaning. They're not who they used to be. They are better, know about all bad things, but got a new life."  
"So they can do what they want?" James looked at him rather skeptically.  
"Not exactly. If they're good enough not to be cached."  
"And people who had not died can't do that."  
'That would be cheating, adding to world's unfairness."  
"You have a twisted mind, Mr. Silva."  
"Well, I am a survivor. And I can't find a single reason to restrain myself."

Silva thought about his chances. He had been spending nearly every day with James, sometimes talking about trivial things or just sitting on the beach drinking. It was peaceful. And Raoul had time, he had been waking years, few months wouldn't make a difference. But he could feel madness swelling inside him, ruthlessness just waiting to come out. So he left his little haven, did some mayhem in the true world and came back. He was surprised when he noticed his own dread just before meeting James. Would he know? How many people died because of Raoul little ticks? He was an agent, he probably would. And Spaniard wasn't disappointed. Just the reaction wasn't what he expected. Instead of threats or angry worlds he was kissed. It was more like a bite, but their lips still met. When they finally got to dear James’ cot he was on breaking point. Taking of clothes seemed to take too much time, wasted time of not touching his partner. When he got back to bed other man wasn't waiting. Soon Raoul felt pain in his neck, as he was bitten. It seemed that James liked to leave his marks. Well, he wasn't going to stay in debt. Getting agent to sit on the bed wasn't an easy task, but then he could take care of him. Falling to his knees and starting to suck other man’s cock wasn't as hard as it used to. And listening to little gasps coming from someone so controlled was a beautiful experience. Raoul felt fingers tugging his hair and grinned around shaft in his mouth. When James started to tremble beneath his fingers he stopped.  
“So how do you want it, Mr Bond?”  
“ As you would like it, Mr Silva.”  
Spaniard got up and reached for his shorts. He almost always got some lube with him, just in case. James was looking at him, smirking. Raoul got him to the center of bed, sat on his tights, coated his own fingers. Agent looked rather surprised, but didn't complain as his partner started to prepare himself. He was too focused on other’s man face, the way he breathed hitched each time fingers went deeper. Too soon Silva reigned control, so he started to suck on his shoulder. He got a little moan from him.  
“Condom?” James asked.  
“If you are not clean I will kill you. And if you got ill just sent bills.” Without any hesitation Raoul got fingers out of himself only to sink down agent’s cock.  
It wasn't glorious or extraordinary. It was sex between too men who knew what they liked. They didn't know each other’s bodies, but were getting there. When they finished fucking, Raoul get cleaned, he sat on the side of the bed and started talking. About rats and islands, about Her little master plan. He wasn't ready to tell James about Tiago, not yet. But he left trails. He knew he was smart enough to find out on his own. When he left he thought about shadows and lights, about being forgiven and forgiving. He had building to blow up, but a little part of him asked what he was going to do if James didn't check info he gave him. Well if Silva (Tiago) was good at something it was lying to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. My little fascination with philosophy is getting bigger.  
> Your kudosu reads paper on the beach, as your comments give me some language advice.


End file.
